


A Cyclops and a Cyclothymic/I Need a Better Title

by curateipsum



Category: The Amazing World of Gumball
Genre: Aged Up, Alternate Universe, GAY SEX OK, Gay, Glasses, Juvenile Humor, M/M, STEP THE FUCK UP KEVIN, TRIGGER WARNING-mental illness, TRIGGER WARNING-mildly deep philosophical thinking, complex feelingz, cyclothymia, it’s very complicated ok-, juvenile, less sexy than usual kinda, mental health, my masterpiece, not exactly perfect, read the notes, romantic, tawog - Freeform, this is not a self insert if you’re asking dammit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-06 02:55:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21219407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/curateipsum/pseuds/curateipsum
Summary: Mr. Small is Rob’s adoptive father. He’s also Gumball’s psycho-therapist at Elmore High. Rob has mostly overcome his past, is doing well in school, and is slowly but surely coming to terms with his homosexuality. Gumball is barely holding on-he’s got a handful of professionals baffled, and his vision is definitely not what it once was. A lucky encounter will bring the two estranged boys together. It’s actually a lot less dramatic than it sounds, lol. Very self-indulgent ish...





	A Cyclops and a Cyclothymic/I Need a Better Title

Gumball was coming home from school when he remembered to stop at the dry cleaners. When he got there, they told him that his clothes weren’t ready, which was upsetting, because he needed his suit for his parents’ dumb vow renewal. Apparently, one of the workers had had some breed of accident, and Gumball would have to come back tomorrow. Sounded like the fucking factory riot days to Gumball, but what could he do? Fighting wasn’t his thing. 

He sighed. He decided to leave and head on home, without any arguing. Simple and lazy enough. But when he stepped onto the street, his head was hit with something hard and cold...was it fucking... what’s it called…? Was it hailing out? It continued to speed down as he zoned out for a moment.

The hail got heavier. He had to find shelter-and quick, if he didn’t want to lose an eye. 

Speaking of an eye...he knew Rob and Mr. Small lived around here. But that was a no-go. He couldn't go there. Rob hated him! Their relationship had been ridiculously rocky since they’d met when Gumball was twelve. Rob saw him as a pest, as vermin, even.

So naturally, his was the only house Gumball knew in this neighborhood…

The thrill of his own cunning overwhelmed his anxiety. Mr. Small wasn’t just Rob’s adoptive father, now-he was also the lead therapist and coordinator of Effective School Solutions, a program which Gumball was a part of. It might have been a little manipulative, but Small was a typical shrink-even the slightest upset in a client could trigger immense fascination and award him full attention. Normally Gumball rejected any and all help-he’d tried never to take advantage of Mr. Small’s counseling-but that fact made his plan all the better. It sounded arrogant-but Small would be over the moon. He’d clasp his doll-ish delicate hands together, his eyes would enlarge like sand dollars, and he’d scramble for his penned-with-pink-ink notes. Gumball decided to dash back into the dry cleaners and grab a stack of ghetto magazines to get him far as he needed to go.

A bit better prepared for the weather now, he tried to compile his thoughts. His day hadn’t been fantastic-he’d had the PSATS, for Christ’s sake. Gumball had survived them pretty well, though; during most of the test he felt giddy, excited, whole-zestful and invested in the school atmosphere. His thoughts were musical and he had to stifle the laughter that brewed unexpectedly inside him. He thought Small might really dig that-he was very much into tracking Gumball’s moods, and now that Gumball had a diagnosis (which he despised for its vagueness), he was more interested in him than ever. 

He shot further into the storm, beginning to jog. 

Gumball tried to pick up the pace some more, squinting into the messy scenery. As a cat, his eyesight during the day wasn’t great, but this extended a bit beyond the usual blurriness: Gumball now had very poor vision after some of his adventures finally caught up with him. They’d even talked about some surgery thing during his last appointment with the eye doctor. He hated wearing glasses (they made him look smart), and putting contacts on freaked him out, so he usually relied on Darwin to help him navigate the world. Unless he was practically touching your nose with his own, your facial features were void. Gone. They vanished into a palette the color of your skin. He had a mirror hanging from the top of the upper bunk in his room, and from the middle of the bed, he couldn’t even see himself clearly in it. He was like a thin wad of blueness, like a blue raspberry Airhead stick. 

Swim season had just started, leaving Gumball without his brother, and not wanting to stop to put his glasses on, he started to count the house numbers. He had memorized them when he was in the eighth grade, hunting for Rob to play villain and hero. Even when he got there, for some reason, he didn’t want Rob to see him with his glasses on. 

When he finally arrived at Mr. Small’s cute little house, he took a deep breath. The perpetually gaudy van, Janice, was parked in the driveway. He started to march up the path, wondering how he’d forgotten just how über pink the house was. 

He pressed the bell. It looked like a large dirty pearl.

“Gumball?” Mr. Small looked just about as shocked as Gumball expected, and even more ecstatic than Gumball had anticipated.

“H-hey” Gumball greeted him softly, his teeth chattering. “I don’t know if this is inappropriate or something, being a Friday and all, but you mind if we talk?”

Mr. Small held his chest in both his hands, as if his heart would prance right out of his tie-dye t-shirt. “Of COURSE we can! Oh, it’s so cold out! Come in! What’s wrong?”

Gumball cleared his throat, nodding gratefully. He should probably see a doctor about all the phlegm he had. “Well I was caught in the weather, and I thought maybe since I was in the neighborhood..I could...tell you more about me?”

Small did a double-take. 

“Oh, just come in! I’ve been waiting for this!” Gumball might not have been in an illegal gang or anything, but he was pretty troubled nonetheless. 

He stepped inside, finally, submerged by the toasty warmth only familial closeness and good heating could provide. He turned around to stare at the archway, which was decorated with photos of the Small family’s adventures-trips to Joyful Burger, Daisy Land, first day of school. Of course, they looked more like abstract Picasso paintings to Gumball.

Gumball forced a grin, remembering his not-so-little ex-nemesis, a prominent feature in the pictures. “Is uh, Rob here?” 

“Right here.” 

Gumball blanched, spinning around as the door clicked shut. It was kind of embarrassing for Rob to know he was thinking about him. They’d been acting like they didn’t even know each other for so many years now. Well, four years, anyway: that was centuries to Gumball, and most teenagers, for that matter. 

“Hey.” Rob shuffled awkwardly, folding his hands together. 

“Hey yourself…” Gumball mumbled. 

Rob always made him feel puny. His build was average compared to Rob’s thinner physique-and yes, Gumball had gotten taller, but Rob still towered over him, having grown himself (not that it mattered, since he’d always been a tree, anyway.) If he could remember, Rob had some stubble around his chin now. Not that Gumball payed attention to Rob’s appearance or anything.

“Sweet digs,” Gumball said, staring around some more. Mr. Small squeezed his shoulders, taking his coat off and hanging it on a rusted, vintage coat rack. 

“I’m going to go make some tea! Bring him to my office in a few, ok, Robbie?” 

Gumball snorted. Shit. Dumb move. He got a disapproving brow raise from ‘Robbie.’

“Sorry.” 

“Yeah, whatever.” 

Rob moved behind Gumball to lock the door, which Small had seemingly forgotten to do. 

As Rob retreated, Gumball felt Rob’s crotch brush against his ass. Just one touch and the hair on Gumball’s neck stood up. In a second of insanity, he pressed himself backwards, lightly trapping Rob between himself and the door. 

“Sorry.” Rob said quickly, making a lazy attempt at sneaking away.

“You’re good.” Gumball answered dismissively, removing himself from the taller boy's lap. Rob squeezed by, walking down the red hallway. 

“Are you coming? His office space is down this way.”

••••

Small’s office was cozy. The usual books on anger management, ADHD, personality disorders, eating disorders, trauma recovery, were splattered across the tables and bookshelves. There were notes scattered everywhere, as if Small had been pacing, writing and rewriting a novel. 

“Have you read all of these?” Gumball screwed his brows together, squinting. A handful of the books, though blurry beyond recognition, looked thick as hell. 

“I used that orange one with you when you were a kid.” Small sighed. “Remind me, are you still taking Ritalin or some kind of stimulant? The med stuff always goes over my head…”

“No. The last one I took was Focalin XR, remember? I stopped a year ago.” Gumball remained standing, uneasily peering around. “I’m just on Lithium now.”

“Right. So, Gumball. What made you come to me?” Mr. Small bit his lip and clasped his hands together, perfectly predictable with wide, glittering eyes. He settled down into a swivel chair. Gumball reluctantly sat down on one of the mini couches.

Gumball cleared his throat into his fist. “I had a bit of a mood swing, and I wanted your opinion on it.” 

“Oh?”

“I thought maybe I should stop ignoring you. I had an epiphany.” Gumball rose a pinkie into the air. “Just promise you won’t try and bathe me in lapis lazuli and moon water or something.” 

“Alright.” Small chose to ignore the underhanded insult. “What happened?” 

“Well, today was PSAT day. Rob told you, right?”

“Yes, he came into the house complaining.” Small chuckled affectionately. “Of course, I’ve had him taking those things for a year now. Last time he got a 1280.”

Oh, so he was THAT kind of dad. Exciting. It went over Gumball’s head.

Gumball nodded, and then cleared his throat. “I was taking the test and all of a sudden, well semi-sudden, and kinda slow, and I started feeling really…energetic. Musical. Goofy. Hopeful. I felt whole inside. I wonder if other people feel like that all the time-they look happier than me-but that isn’t my...baseline, that’s what you call it, right?” Mr. Small nodded mutely. Gumball continued. “When I’m in that state, I don’t feel alone. I feel a part of something beautiful and grand, and I consciously register and cherish it. I look around, and I’m not comparing my life to other people’s-which I know sounds stupid. I feel a part of the world, of the teen world, and I like my own world.” 

He looked to the ground. “I want to feel like that all the time. My baseline isn’t bad, necessarily, but it pales in comparison. It’s unstable, too, I think.”

Mr. Small changed position, putting a leg over the other.

“That was...quite a description, Gumball.” He smiled shortly, wiping a tear from his eye, scratching the spot where his invisible nose was. How histrionic...“What other symptoms have you noticed?”

“Well when I’m like that, I feel kind of invincible. I toss anything pessimistic away. I tend to laugh a lot, or dance a little more...dramatically than I normally would, not that I really dance in the first place. Sometimes my breathing changes, too, or I talk differently, like kind of faster or more excitedly.” He shrugged. “I have a lot of energy-like once it came when I was vacuuming. I started singing the two lines I know from “The Sun Will Come Out Tomorrow” over and over again, and I was ramming the machine all over. I might’ve chipped the wall a little. I want to hug everyone and be with everyone and sometimes, not to be weird, but I want to cry. I just get so happy.” 

“And the lows?” Small asked. “You can’t forget those.”

Gumball nodded. “Those times, it’s like it’s doomsday, and there’s no escape. I think about having to live a boring life, a wasted life, a life with no family and kids, no job, no friends. Sometimes I can barely breathe, I’m in so much pain. I can’t sleep. I can feel paranoid and I tremble. My neck and back can hurt. It’s a lot of anxiety, and disappointment. I just feel like I’ve wasted the best years of my life being sick for no reason. Sometimes I know why I’m upset, and others I don’t.”

Mr. Small inhaled, lacing his fingers together. Gumball felt surprised with himself, and he guessed that Small was probably more than a little surprised with him too. Gumball usually avoided talking about things of depth and substance as much as possible-even refusing to read books or date for fear of triggering anything profound. 

Gumball’s once averagely-sucky-but-wildly-fun-and-blessed life was tough, to say the least.

His legs shook ferociously, as he began folding into himself, hunching his back and hiding his face. Maybe he really should be talking more. If anything, past experiences had taught him that things build up until they explode.

Gumball really never learns.

Mr. Small seemed as trying to hide his confusion and elation. “For someone who cuts my therapy group as much as you do, you do have a lot of insight into what’s going on...”

“But I don’t, Mr. Small.” Gumball argued. He adjusted his position in the chair, his legs continuing to shake and dance. “The diagnosis doesn’t make sense. I’m already on a mood stabilizer. And all the research on it seems to be contradictory! There’s like a million different ways to have it!!” He sputtered. “I bet I could meet another guy with it on the street or something, and we’d hardly have anything in common! It’s so confusing. It’s stupid. It’s just not fair.” 

“These diagnoses are flawed, Gumball. You’re not really textbook anything, you know.” Small shrugged, as if that same old explanation would soothe the teen. “I know we’ve gone through a thousand things-depression, borderline personality, various anxiety disorders...I’m sorry to tell you I was too hasty diagnosing you in the past. I know that it’s complex, especially in your case. Cyclothymia fits you, but it doesn’t change anything.”

“Yeah, because like I said, I’m already on the mood stabilizer. I haven’t felt depressed of suicidal in days, and that’s what it’s supposed to do.” It was scarily true. “Do you think I’m cured?” 

Mr. Small’s expression was one of seriousness. “That isn’t how these things work, I’m afraid.” 

“But I don’t even feel like myself! I feel stable a lot of the time.” Gumball sat upright, pulling his sweatshirt hood down. “I think I’m almost cured. That’s why I’m talking. It makes sense!” His hands flew in the air for effect.

“And how does that make you feel? You look kind of off, Gumball.” He did. He didn’t really look like someone who’d had a weight lifted off his shoulders. He looked like a walking buzzer. 

“Can I tell you something?” Gumball asked, swallowing his pride. 

“Go on.” The situation was parlous. 

“I don’t want to be cured.” He whispered, shame dripping from his lips.“I don’t want to be cured at all. Because who am I supposed to be if I’m not sick anymore? My life is going to be empty! I’ve been in so many therapies, man, I just…”

Being less sick meant less attention-no more group at school with Ocho and Sarah three days a week, one on one with a psychotherapist at school once a week, twice a week therapy with a psychiatrist, once a week therapy with a social worker…(lord knows where the money came from)...he hadn’t had stability in so long, hadn’t had a strong identity since he was a pre-teen...he didn’t go a day without feeling, knowing something was off in his brain, and he didn’t know if he could take it when things got good. That was the hideous truth. He wouldn’t know what to do with himself, with the heaviness and wilderness lifted. There’d be such a void.

Mr. Small finally interrupted Gumball’s spiraling thought process, seeming uncomfortable and maybe even a little panicked. 

“You’ll fill your life with healthier things, Gumball. Happier things.” Small affirmed. “Your life won’t be empty. You have family and friends who care about you. There’s nothing more important than that.”

It was a nice sentiment, a true one, too, but Gumball didn’t want to be healthy. He didn’t know how to be, how that worked. If he wasn’t in therapy, if he wasn’t being treated for a handful of diagnostic codes, what did he matter? He didn’t matter. He’d feel just like everyone else. He’d be just like everyone else, only emptier, his adolescence a big black suction hole. His life all these years had been a waste of time, time he’d never get back. He’d be a completely different person if he wasn’t sick. His very own life would be foreign to him without his illnesses. He needed them. They were practically all he was.

“Gumball, you know there’s more to you than your...sickness, your difficulties, don’t you?” 

“Of course I do.” Gumball retorted immediately. “It’s just that being crazy pulled it all together.”

“You aren’t crazy. And if you were, it wouldn’t have to do with any mental illness.” Small whistled, shaking his head. “It’d be because of your twenty-four seven utter lack of danger awareness. Anyone in Elmore could tell you that!”

It was an appreciated effort at lightening the mood, but it still stung him. He wasn’t who he used to be, at least, he didn’t think so. But then again, maybe, just maybe, the old Gumball was lurking inside, thrusting out his hand for his older self to guide out of the heavy grayness. 

He shrugged, fidgeting with his feet. “Sorry.”

••••

When they came out, Gumball was picking at the stray acne on the side of his cheek, attempting to appear casual as he observed the hallway. The coloring was weird. It felt like some kind of vampire dollhouse. The doors to the rooms were black, and the walls themselves were solid crimson.

“Gumball’s going to stay the night. The storm doesn’t seem to be letting up.” Mr. Small stuffed his puffy hands into his bell bottom pockets, addressing his son, who sat indifferently on a black plastic bench. “I’m going to call his mother now.” 

“Whatever.” Rob didn’t bat an eye. His gaze didn’t leave his phone screen. He even had scarlet earbuds in.

“Robbie...,” Small started tenderly. Both of the boys somehow knew that whatever came next was going to suck ass for the both of them, just based on the sweetness of his tone. “I’d like you to share your bed with our guest.”

Gumball froze. Rob slowly lifted his eye towards his father. “Cannnn you repeat that, Steve?”

“I want you to share your bed with Gumball. I haven’t changed the guest room sheets in ages, and it doesn’t feel right to let him sleep alone on the other end of the house!” Mr. Small explained. “It would make use terrible hosts. He’d never want to come back.”

“Would that be such a bad thing?” Rob muttered to himself under his breath. 

Mr. Small playfully whacked his head. “Now hurry along upstairs, you can watch some tv, and I’ll bring you boys a treat.”

He huddled off, and if I (the author of this half-assed masterpiece) didn’t know any better, I’d say he probably shipped it. Of course, being kind of a dumbbell, he probably assumed nothing would ***REALLY*** happen. At most, maybe a peck on the lips and a lot of sweating-neither of the boys were brazen enough for anything more, right? 

Unfortunately for this innocent father, I am not an innocent (wo)man. Then again, his being on  
board with my ship is ‘completely’ theoretical. 

Carrying on.

“So...where are the stairs?” Gumball asked nervously, his voice cracking as he gripped his backpack strap. 

Rob rolled his eye, pulling his earbuds out and letting them hang from inside his phone, which rested in his fist. He sighed, not one to hide his feelings. “This way. Follow me.” 

••••

Rob’s bed was standard, with red sheets and simple white pillows. There was a cute matching miniature bookshelf beside it, a tissue box perched atop. Gumball blushed at that, and that it was in such close proximity to the bed. It gave him a nasty little thrill of wonder. He tried to stifle a snort. Rob, masturbating? What a weird thought-he definitely did it, though. What teen didn’t at least try it?

Rob turned around, his hands dropping to his sides after a dramatic ‘here we are’ motion. That pretty much represented the next three hours, which involved Rob watching several recordings of “My Ghost Story”, and Gumball being curled on the nook, ten feet away. Small came in and gave them dinosaur nuggets, mashed potatoes, and orange soda at around seven. Gumball entertained himself thinking about how Small was probably downstairs, dying to have some of their nuggets, too. In fact, he was probably cooking up a whole new package of them just for himself!

•••

Gumball began to unpackage the new toothbrush Small had given him. He squirted some toothpaste on the bristles, and began to brush his teeth really quietly, trying to hide himself for a while as he thought. 

“Don’t be so rough!” The brush screeched. “Geez, Louise! Have mercy! Look at my poor bristles!”

“Sorry,” he mumbled. Usually objects didn’t communicate with him anymore.

Gumball resumed brushing, albeit at a slower pace. He kept thinking about what he’d told Mr. Small-he sounded like a madman-feeling whole-what was that supposed to even mean? Feeling connected with everyone...what a sad picture he painted of himself. Did Gumball see himself as being empty? It appeared that way, and that was pathetic, according to Gumball. He was such a wimp.

It was definitely unexpected-how much he’d revealed, like he did it all the time. He wasn’t sure he could ever face Small again without feeling naked and stupid. So stupid. Sometimes Gumball really surprised himself-sometimes he was so sure he knew himself, and then he went and shocked himself and the world. There were so many questions about himself he couldn’t answer. 

For starters, he didn’t know what to label his sexuality. Leaving anything unlabeled tended to annoy him-it was probably an anxiety thing. He wasn’t sure what he really loved-what really made him tick, what he had a knack for-and it all drove him up the wall so much that sometimes he’d become suicidal. He could feel suicidal for a lot of reasons, actually, but as of late, they’d thankfully gotten a lot more predictable. Over half of the intense depressive states were due to anxiety. No one could blame him for that-he’d somehow been kept on his toes his whole life, when he really didn’t want to be, by some invisible force of nature. 

The rest of the triggers were harder to pinpoint. But there were no (dangerous) mixed episodes like last summer, and that's enough for now, he supposed. 

Gumball spat into the sink. He set the toothbrush down, and started to rub soap around his hands and then his face. 

•••

At around nine, Rob said, “They’re gonna be long, but I have some pajamas I could lend you.” 

“Nah, I hate pajamas.” It was a lie. He was trying to deny it, but he liked this idea-this abrupt idea!- being naked in Rob’s sheets. It sounded gay and sick as hell, but he couldn’t resist. He’d been super aroused all through the ghost show marathon, being the hypersexual bastard he was, and this wasn’t a big deal, right? They were both guys. “I actually prefer to sleep in my underwear, if you don’t mind.”

Rob almost tensed so hard he nearly got stuck that way. Then he composed himself. “Yeah, um, that’s cool..”

So Gumball peeled his clothes off, piece by piece. First he pulled his red school sweatshirt over his head, leaving his slightly muscled chest bare. Next, he neatly shoved his sweats down to his ankles, kicking them into a corner.

Rob was watching every tiny move he made. Gumball was certain of it. Which was another weird thought/observation he’d add to today’s pile.

He finally chucked his sliders away, now only in his blue plaid underwear and socks. 

Gumball then crawled tentatively into bed, making sure to cling to the opposite end. He was kind of bummed he couldn’t masturbate like he usually did, but he forced a smile, hearing the hail assault the windowsills. He breathed into Rob’s sheets, his senses intrigued by the scent of cheap cologne and sweat. It was a pretty comfy bed, actually, and the aroma was dreamy and dizzying.

Normally Gumball would have been asking a lot of questions-what’s your bed routine, blah blah blah, to keep the awkwardness at bay. Demolish it completely, even. But Gumball was feeling so incredibly awkward he’d been Silenced. God, his confidence was scattered! He curled up and turned over onto his side. 

“Goodnight.” Rob heaved a sigh, nestling under the covers.

“Night.” Gumball replied, regretting his hasty rejection of pajamas. It was cold as fuck, even with the blanket.

••••

Fast forward, it was about midnight. 

Gumball was mostly asleep, but starting to wake up. His body was tingling, and light was leaking into his sight. Gumball could feel how his body stretched and moved without his consent, his hips gyrating in an uncontrollable, mechanical rhythm. He was now more like half-asleep, as opposed to mostly asleep: slow as a snail, still out of it, but gaining consciousness. 

And something stiff was poking him, his legs trapped between someone else’s.

Gumball gasped, clamping his mouth shut and gritting his teeth as all the light blue color drained from his face. 

He’d been pushing his ass into Rob. Dry humping him like a freshman girl, or worse, a sophomore girl-either way, it was shameful and not at all poetic. That thing touching Gumball at the moment was his nemesis’ fricking junk. 

What could he do? If Rob weren’t returning Gumball’s previous gestures by rubbing his cock along Gumball’s crack, Gumball would’ve just gone back to sleep. Never would’ve mentioned it. 

He felt ill, and his stomach was somersaulting. Gumball figured it was best to put an end to...whatever this was. Sleep-humping? That’s probably what happened behind the scenes in Sleeping Beauty. 

“Rob?” Gumball caressed his cheek, taking the opportunity to admire the older boy’s countenance. He watched the static pour over his fingers. He didn’t want to startle him. “Rob? Wake up!”

He grabbed him by the head, pulling at his hair in as painless a way as possible. “Rob!”

“W-what?” His lemon eye opened, half-lidded and glazed. 

“So...uh…” 

Rob gave him a dull look. “Please tell me you’re not trying to break the awkwardness now.” 

“Pssh, n-no. No, um, you see, apparently we were kind of…” Gumball leaned into his lap, squirming as he felt Rob’s..well, you know. “...In our sleep, you were...well I was too, but-.”

“Excuse me, what?” Rob’s brow arched. Gumball clicked his tongue in exasperation. 

“We were...you know what the freshmen do in the back of the orchestra room? THAT!” Gumball rubbed his hands together, trying to impress the idea of friction onto Rob.

“What?!” The cyclops’ face colored purple, as he blinked rapidly. “You mean..Jesus!” He violently jerked away from Gumball, looking as if this was the worst moment of his entire life thus far. Which was saying a lot, considering the shit the guy had been through.

“It’s ok!” Gumball assured him quickly, throwing out his hands as if to pull him close again. Rob’s body language relaxed a smidge, but he wouldn’t meet Gumball’s eyes. He settled himself into a reasonably comfortable position, his head on a pillow again as Gumball tackled the challenge of calming them both down.

He sat up some more. “Do you, um, like that...you know, with guys? It’s ok if you do. I wouldn’t judge.” Gumball knew (thanks to Leslie’s loud gossip) that Rob was part of Elmore High’s Gay-Straight Alliance-and everyone knows no straight person would be caught dead there. He elegantly rose a hand into the air for good measure. “Scout’s Honor.”

Rob wrapped his arm behind his head before he responded. “I think so.” He whispered feebly. “Not that it’s any of your business…”

Gumball clapped his hands together, shrugging and nodding his head. “Well, it’s all good! We were probably just huddling for warmth. It’s totally natural. It’s quite the winter we have going on out there!” Gumball jabbed his finger behind him, towards the window. 

Rob shifted away. “Yeah. Obviously.”

“Look,” Gumball sighed, trying to seem exhausted and at the end of his wits or something. “It IS pretty cold. I don’t mind snuggling up, if you don’t. Really. Let’s just forget about everything-middle school, the bodily stuff. I call a truce.” 

Rob was nonplussed. “Gumball...are you trying to tell me you want to...snuggle with me?” 

Gumball’s heart pounded like gay pornstars at the sound of Rob saying his name. Not that he like, you know, watched gay porn or anything. 

“No, I’m telling you that I'm currently freezing, and my masculinity isn’t of the same fragility as a snowflake’s.”

Rob shoved his face into his hands. “THIS IS RIDICULOUS! What if we were to...” He looked as if he wished he hadn’t said the last bit.

“What if we were to what?” Gumball pressed. Go on, say it, he thought. I dare you.

Rob groaned, seething. “Well, what if we do it again?!”

“Don’t be ridiculous! We wouldn’t!” Gumball scoffed, swatting Rob’s absurdity away with a flick of his wrist. “Look, first time it’s not gay, second it is; and we aren’t like, lovers, so that won’t happen! Now, do you REALLY want to get pneumonia or the flu?! People DIE from that stuff!” Gumball was pretty sure he’d learned in school that cold weather didn’t actually make you sick, but whatever. Gumball was losing him, and he couldn’t afford to. Rob was already getting ready to try and sleep again. 

“Stop being overly masculine, man! You owe it to your body! Would you go out there without a coat?!” Gumball asked loudly. “Your heat system isn’t really working, evidently! We need to huddle for warmth! Like soldiers in ditches!”

“Ugh! Stop being manipulative!” Rob demanded, throwing his spread fingers into the air. “You’re just...you’re just perverted...”

“Me? Perverted? Wh-aaa-t?” Gumball placed both his hands on his chest. “Perverted how?!” His dark shining pupils wrestled with their new intensity. 

He put a finger up, cutting Rob off as he was no doubt getting ready to deliver another rant. “Hold up...do you think I’m...ATTRACTED to you?”

Silence, save for the winter wind.

His jaw hung, and on his knees now, he crawled further towards Rob’s side of the bed. “Me? Attracted to YOU? HA! YOU’RE the one in the FAGGOT club! How do I know you’re not attracted to ME, huh?!” 

“Only people in the GSA can call it that!” Rob sat up a smidge, his hands balled into fists on the mattress as he came to face Gumball square in the eye. “And please, don’t flatter yourself. You’re barely a 4.5.”

“Fine!” Gumball began to retreat. A 4.5?! Said who?! Humiliation and pain smoldered in his cheeks and chest. He twitched, deciding to take a few deep breaths. With patience, Rob observed.

He successfully de-escalated. 

“You’re right...I’m sorry.” Gumball mumbled meekly. “Sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I don’t know what’s going on with me. Real truce this time.” 

“Look, I’ll give it a go, okay?” Rob blurted suddenly. His face was quite stern. Gumball could feel himself blush as Rob shrugged, his eye preoccupied with the needlework of the blanket. “Let’s just go to bed. We’ll huddle for warmth. You’re the guest, and I suppose it won’t kill me. Just keep your hands to yourself.”

Gumball perked up. “Alright, then! No one ever has to know. To the grave. It’s pure survival.”

“Right.”

So they huddled, just as they had before: both boys on their sides, Gumball tucked inside of Rob’s crescent-like form. They spread the blanket over themselves again, Gumball still feeling the need to explain himself as the night marched on.

“Here, just like we were before. It’s not a big deal. Totally professional snuggling.”

“This is bullshit...” Rob whined gruffly.

“Then WHY are you doing it? I was just about to let you off the hook, you know!”

“Just shut up! Ugh!” Like old times.

They snuggled together more, Gumball contentedly curled up against Rob. The big spoon and little spoon formation perfected, the cat emitted a short, happy sigh. He felt so safe in Rob’s arms, which Rob slowly draped around his narrow lower waist. Their thighs were together, practically entangled. Personal space was shot dead. 

They were so close, that Gumball could feel Rob’s member almost right against his hole. He couldn’t get it out of his mind. Why did it have to feel so good? 

Only fags liked this kind of shit. But Gumball wasn’t like that. He had dated Penny, the head cheerleader, in middle school, for Christ’s sake. He wasn’t gay at all. He wasn’t gay. He wasn’t gay. He wasn’t gay. He wasn’t gay. He wasn’t gay. He didn’t like men at all. He was a perfect 0 on the Kinsey scale.

(...It got so tiring fighting yourself all the time. He didn’t know why he always had to be fighting himself.)

Spooning with Rob and succumbing to his perplexing desires felt so scary and unnatural,...but so natural and so right all the same. Gumball held his head in his hands, his face contorting as he craned his neck so that he could admire Rob in his sleep. He liked to observe his face, the lines and curves of his eye and mouth, the smoothness of his skin. He felt like his heart was breaking just watching his chest go up and down, just buzzing with longing, his breathing like chamber music. All this, even through his blurry vision.

He turned again, facing the other side of the room now. 

“You know, I’m pretty sure all guys do this with their friends. True, we aren’t technically friends-more like nemeses or acquaintances, but hey, keep your enemies closer, right?” Gumball whispered laughingly. Rob didn’t answer.

He inhaled Rob’s musky smell, gulping as his body betrayed him. He winced, feeling himself accidentally push back into Rob even more, hoping something witty to say would come to mind. But nothing was. 

“So...do you uh, follow politics? I think Biden kinda screwed up during that last debate, and it’s obvious everyone knows Warren’s top dog now, because they all went after her.”

Rob latched onto his hips, gently squeezing Gumbal’s plush sides like dough. Gumball tightened his legs together, his sweaty hands becoming fists of self-control, desperately trying to force back a mewl. He swallowed it down.

“Ah-ha! You’re touching me. You’re a fag. Case closed.” Gumball sniffed smugly.

“Can you just be quiet? It’s easier to huddle for warmth when you’re not being a nuisance.” That did shut up Gumball up for a moment. He had to give him that. 

“You’re still gay.” Gumball thought about what Rob had said earlier about that word, faggot. “I bet you like it if a dude touches your dick, right?”

Rob looked away. “Lucky guess.” He snarked. 

“Has anyone ever touched it?”

He shifted to face Rob and extended a hand towards the cyclops’ growing erection. 

“Can I? You touched my ass. It’s kinda fair.”

“Wouldn’t that be gay?” Rob asked sarcastically.

“Shh,” Gumball licked his lips with anticipation. He heard Rob gulp, and he caught the cyclops spreading his legs a little.

This was perfect. Gumball was really going to do it. He’d finally know if he did, and how much, he liked men. It was absurdly perfect, really. Rob wasn’t popular, nor was he really truly much of a jerk. Nobody would ever know about this. 

He remembered the Asian girl from the movie “Blockers”, with John Cena. She was in a dusty pink dress (with makeup and hair to match), and she had a cape from some fandom (because she was a double-decker nerd.) She told Confused Girl, (who looked like a more low key/watered down version of Wednesday Adams) that dicks felt like dead snakes in her hand, and nothing more. 

Rob was breathing very audibly. Something about this anticipation whispered to Gumball that Rob’s mini-Rob wasn’t going to feel like a disappointing dead snake. R-A-T-S!

“Can I?” He asked again. 

Rob choked it out. “Yeah.”

So one by one, Gumball’s fingers looped around it through his loose-fitting school spirit pajamas. Pleasure attacked Gumball’s body as he brushed his fingers admiringly over it.

“How big are you?”.

If Rob had a visible nose, it would've scrunched up. “How should I know? I never measured it.” 

Gumball rolled his eyes at that. Weirdo! He drew his hands around its width and length, marveling at the feeling of its thickness against his palm and fingers. Gumball began to stroke it, tracing the veins and shyly glancing up at Rob to gage his reaction.

Rob’s lips were tightened. He was rigid. “G-Gumball...um…”

“Do you like it?” Gumball asked. He scooped Rob’s balls up into his hand. They were so warm and bulbous and cute between his thumb and the rest of his fingers. 

Rob nodded, anxiously watching Gumball experimentally play with his privates.

There was a button underneath the waist of Rob’s pants, where a sulking little black bow was tied. Gumball undid the button. Then, through the pants, he pulled down Rob's underwear until he could see some of his naked skin through the hole. 

He pulled the cyclops’ dick out, a zoo of animals rushing and escaping their cages inside his chest. 

“Touching it any more would be gay,” Gumball whispered, clearing his throat. He lay on his side again, a leg going midway into the air. “If you really need to get off or whatever, you could put it in between here. That way I’m not technically touching you.” 

Rob’s eye widened. “...Are you serious?”

“Yeah, just pretend I’m a pillow or something.” Gumball insisted casually. He grabbed his ass in his hands and spread his butt cheeks. “I might be a 4.5 or whatever, but I-“

Rob didn’t need any more convincing. He practically jumped Gumball, his excitement and desire apparent in his shivering form. 

He enthusiastically started to rub his member up and down across Gumball’s anus, audibly moaning every three seconds or so. Gumball slipped one of his own hands into his boxers, murmuring softly and beginning to jerk himself. 

How did Gumball let it get this far? What had he been thinking?!

“Gumball…”

“Yes?” 

“I’m gonna...um, take advantage of your offer...so can you...” His grip around Gumball’s hips tightened. His fingers dove between his thighs, nearly touching Gumball’s sack, rubbing Gumball’s hands as he explored him. Gumball opened his legs. It was a little awkward.

Rob shivered, shoving his cock between Gumball’s now tightened legs and beginning to thrust. Listening to Gumball whine and mewl, he started a trail kisses around Gumball’s sensitive collarbone, gently nibbling his neck. Eventually Rob came between Gumball’s legs, and Gumball, stupefied, soon followed. 

Both of the boys took a moment to regain their breath. Rob lay onto his back, and Gumball was having trouble removing his hand from where it was wedged beneath his damp underwear.

But then he did it. The craziest thing he’d ever done. 

Gumball craned his neck, mounted Rob, and kissed him. He pressed his lips to his in an urgent, sloppy kiss, his glitching cheek in his hand. He leaned into Rob, wrapping his legs around his hips and slowly sliding his hand down his chest. He was a wild animal. And Rob did, in fact, have stubble, and it was kind of ticklish and sexy. Gumball kissed him like he’d gotten back from war, and he wished he could see Rob’s horny expression better. 

Rob massaged his back, returning his kiss, unable to close his eye from the shock. As soon as he felt Rob start to kiss back, panic flew through Gumball. 

“Fuck, I’m so sorry!” 

He’d crossed the line. Two guys playing around, kinda touching each other-that was bad enough to Gumball, although some might call it “natural experimentation.” But actually kissing the man (er, guy)?! Had he gone fully insane? It was so romantic. “I am SO sorry!! I just got caught up in the moment, not that there was a moment or...I just…” 

“You…?” Rob’s voice was fragile. 

“I…” Gumball’s whole face burned. He averted his eyes, his heart thumping wildly in his ears.  
“It just...it just felt so GOOD, alright, man?! I-it’s no big DEAL or anything-“

“Ugh, be quiet!” Rob shouted. “Your level of denial is unbelievable. Just admit it. You’re a pervert.”

“How about YOU be quiet. Y-you’re going to wake up your dad!”

“This is all YOUR fault. If you hadn’t randomly showed up at a TEACHER’S HOUSE, which I don’t even think is LEGAL, we wouldn’t be in this weird situation!”

“Hey, it takes two to tango, pal!” Gumball barked back.

Rob sighed, rubbing his temples aggravatedly, hopelessly. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I know you’re an ESS kid. I know Small’s not just your teacher…”

“Huh.” Gumball said. “So much for confidentiality…” 

“Wait! Don’t put it on Steve…” Rob’s shoulders sagged. “I was eavesdropping before.”

“What?!” Gumball shrieked. Then he covered his mouth and repeated himself quieter.

Rob took a piece of the blanket in his hands and started to play with it. “I just heard so many rumors at school about you. I just hoped I could debunk them.” 

Gumball narrowed his eyes. “Guess you lucked out.” He grumbled. “But why do YOU care? Shouldn’t you be happy that I’m a mess? You hate me.”

“I’m not that guy anymore. I never really was. I was traumatized, and I was alone. I wasn’t right in the head.” Rob insisted. “Steve has helped me a lot to cope in healthier ways, and just so we’re crystal clear, I hope that he’s helping you do the same. Honest.”

“Aww!” Gumball cried involuntarily, still seated atop Rob. He straddled him again, not moving his grateful and surprised gaze from Rob’s. He felt all honey-like. 

“Oof!” He shifted backwards, feeling Rob’s erection poke him again. Gumball looked down. His eyes widened.

“S-sorry.”

“Are you hard again?” He gulped, feeling his own erection begin to rise, as he admired it.

“Uh…”

“It’s ok. It’s just natural.” Gumball said quietly. “Maybe it wants a kiss too.”

He drew his tongue over it, pressing into the tip. Rob’s hands were in fists again, and his body was tensed up, even when Gumball had removed his mouth. 

“How’s it feel now?” He asked smugly. It tasted nice, but Rob didn’t answer. 

That’s when reality crashed over him-there, in the mesmerized silence. He thought about all these years, being an adolescent. Ever since puberty began, he’d found something compelling about them...the way they hung, the way they fidgeted and stood up, the way he imagined they felt on your hand, balls and all. He loved the words for them, too: cock and dick and such.

“You’re hard.” Gumball stated. “You’re hard for me. I made you hard. Don’t deny it.”

To his further surprise, Rob’s member was throbbing, leaking. He wanted to hold it again. Hold it forever, really.

“Stop LOOKING.” Rob muttered. “Fine...I am. Go ahead, judge me. I can’t believe I even told you that I’m...”

“Stop LOOKING? Well, I’ve FELT IT ALREADY!” Gumball whispered incredulously, his stomach churning. “I get that you’re embarrassed because I am too, okay? I’m just SO HORNY RIGHT NOW!” So horny for you, he wanted to say. But he was scared.

“Well I’m NOT horny,” Rob grumped, folding his arms over his chest. “I have no desire for sex, and no desire for you.”

Gumball’s brow furrowed. “Oh, really now? Even after…?” 

“Mhm!” Rob confirmed determinedly. 

“You mean you really wouldn’t like it if I put my mouth on it again, maybe? Swirled my tongue all over your cock like this?” He lazily curved his tongue over an invisible air-penis.

“S-shut up.”

“You mean to tell me you reaaally wouldn’t like to shove your entire cock down my throat, have me sucking you all over, on my knees for you?” Gumball smirked. “Helplessly jerking myself off?” 

Rob swallowed. “Gumball, d-don’t be gross.” 

But Gumball only got crazier. “You mean you really really wouldn’t like to put it deep inside me, watch me as I become a wailing mess beneath you? You mean to tell me you really don’t want to feel your rock hard cock engulfed by my hot little asshole?” Gumball whispered, removing a lock of chestnut brown hair from Rob’s eye. He started to laugh at Rob’s flustered expression, so hard that he almost forgot his own arousal. “All you want to do is put it inside me. It’s CLEAR AS DAY. YOU’RE the gay one.”

He watched Rob’s dick give him, shaking like a leaf.

“Too bad, I guess. Goodnight!” Gumball rolled over, prepared to temporarily fake slumber. 

“You shouldn’t fucking talk, dammit.”

“Oh?” Gumball batted his eyes innocently. “And why fucking not, man?” He laughed.

“I know why you’re here.”

“...say what now? We HAD the ESS talk already.”

“You’re not here because of ESS, or because you were having any kind of emotional crisis.” 

Gumball rolled back around. 

“Maybe you were earlier or whatever, but that’s not why you’re here. I know how your mom is. She would’ve came to take you home on A DOLLAR STORE SLED if you had called her ass first! There was absolutely no reason for you to come here!”

Gumball played baffled. “...Why do you think I’m here, then?” 

“Because you wanted to see me. That’s the sole reason.”

“SEE you? I haven’t spoken to you in YEARS! W-why start now?!”

“Stop playing DUMB.” Rob growled animalstically. Gumball’s face went white with alarm when Rob pulled him by his boxers to stare him in the eye. He shook helplessly as Rob gripped his chin, securing their eye contact. Gumball tried to close his eyes, but he just kept opening them up. “I see the way you look at me, Gumball. It’s so obvious. You might as well wear an ‘I HEART ROB’ tee shirt!” 

“Aren’t you ever the narcissist?” Gumball sneered. “That’s bullshit. It’s a load of crap, and you know it. You’re just projecting or something.”

“Oh, PLEASE!” Rob yelled. “Get real! You think when I change for gym I don’t notice you peeking at me with heart eyes and your tongue out? You think I don’t know how you stand around and gawk at me down the hall from my locker after school? I know all your secrets, Gumball.” 

Gumball blushed fiercely, his heartbeat quickening. “I’m not a stalker.” He mumbled, calmly as he was able. 

Rob didn’t register it.

“And you know what else? I know that every night you probably milk this thing completely, fantasizing about getting fucked in the ass by your ‘ex nemesis’.” He pulled at Gumball’s erection, smirking as he felt Gumball drip into his underwear. “So stop playing games, Watterson. The only slut here is you, and you’re as much of a lunatic as ever, too.”

Gumball’s eyes briefly fluttered closed as he processed everything. “When did you know I was here be-“

“I knew when you pressed your ass into my lap like an idiot downstairs.” 

“You started it…” Gumball muttered, his big dark eyes misty with arousal. “S-so...um…”

“Yup. That’s what happening.” Rob affirmed. “You’re leaving this house without your virginity, Gumball Watterson.” 

Gumball squeaked as Rob squeezed his lips together. He watched anxiously as the other boy admired them-full, wet, and red-pink. 

“Take everything off.” Rob released him, almost with a certain indifference. 

Gumball folded his arms over his chest. “No way, I c-can’t take my socks off!” 

He squeaked again as Rob forced his boxers down to his knees, taking Gumball’s erection into his hand. 

“Whatever.” He grumbled. “Maybe the next time you and your annoying friends feel the need to call the school lunch assortment ‘gay’, you’ll think about this event.”

He watched Rob ascend from the bed and shift through the drawers across the room, pulling out a box of conforms and a little black bottle. It looked exotic or something-there was a floral design on it, along with the usual mumbo jumbo information.

Gumball watched as Rob took his pants off completely, tossing them into Gumball’s face. He quickly removed them. Rob poured some of the lubricant into his hand, and began rubbing it around Gumball’s entrance. He kept adding more and more.

“R-Rob…” Gumball’s toes curled. “We’re not having sex right now. Experimentation isn’t really sex. Just so you know.” He managed. 

“That’s very cute,” Rob replied indulgently, bringing the box of condoms closer to his knee. “Tell me what you think after this.” 

Gumball wanted to shove his thumb in his mouth, he wasn’t sure he could contain his shriek as Rob gently slid a finger inside him. He panted, his body becoming rigid as Rob caressed his cheek. 

“Do you feel that?” 

“Y-yeah.” Whispered Gumball meekly.

“Do you like it?”

“I think so…” Gumball smiled, a little more strength in his face now. “Are you not in asshole mode anymore?”

Rob cleared his throat. “This has been a complicated night of very complicated feelings. You’re a pretty complicated person, actually.” He began to move his finger around, watching with appreciation as Gumball sighed and spread his legs further. Pretty complicated, for such a little nuisance.

Rob tossed Gumball’s legs over his shoulders, positioning himself. He knew this was going to hurt Gumball at first. He pushed his finger back into Gumball, a second one shortly following. Beautiful.

“I want to go in now.” 

“Oh, I fucking dare you…” 

Rob massaged his dick one more time before delicately sliding into a condom, and then into Gumball’s asshole. Gumball screamed with his mouth shut.

“You ok?” 

“Yeah...I think I am…”

“You know I didn’t want to ask you before, but…”

“But what?” Gumball asked. Rob stared at his lips, almost not wanting to touch them, they were so soft. 

“You’re squinting. You squint. A lot.” 

“What?! No, I don’t!” Gumball rushed to cover his eyes with his wrists. “It’s just the, you know, fatigue.” 

“Too bad. You have nice eyes. Be nice if they weren’t scrunched up all the time.” 

“I don’t squint…” Gumball mumbled.

“I think these will change your mind.” With his other hand, Rob revealed a pair of black glasses. 

Gumball’s black glasses. 

“Hey!” Gumball cried. His stomach tightened.

“You should put these on.” Rob smirked. Gumball wanted to claw his face off-he looked so high and mighty and smug and shit. “Here.” 

He slipped them on for Gumball, combing his hair. “There. Isn’t it nice to be able to see?”

“You still have only one eye.” 

“Well you have four.” Gumball smiled, and Rob returned it.

They just wanted to feel each other everywhere now. Truly. All the heat in Gumball’s body rushed to his reddening cheeks, as his head fell back in bliss, pleasure sneaking in and overwhelming him. So Rob started to thrust, and somehow, through all the magic, Gumball was able to think. He tried not to think about all the funny faces he must be making. He covered his face. 

“Cut that out. I want to see you.” Gumball poked an eye through his hands, low guttural moans escaping through as well. 

And that’s when it sunk in. 

Rob like-liked Gumball-he actually liked him, like he was supposed to like girls. Gumball just knew it. He could feel it. The way Rob observed him-it was as if he were an art curator and looked at art in the museum for years and now finally, actually, got to touch it. He knew where everything was and how it felt to touch it-he knew about every freckle or beauty mark, the start of every whisker, the style of every eyelash. It was obvious. It was real, and it was better than the elevated phases he so worshipped. It was like all his growing pains and aches were quelled and powdered with Rob’s touch, so rough and soft. His calloused hands reminded Gumball of cotton balls, or cupcakes. Stupid things, and more than stupid things, too, that his brain didn’t even know. His body knew, though.

The cyclops picked up the pace. Rob moved aggressively into Gumball, their skin slapping as he forced himself in and out of Gumball’s little opening. Gumball’s heart leapt up and down and all around inside his chest. He could feel every inch of Rob in the most sensitive region of his body. Rob was inside him, for Christ’s sake. He was losing his virginity to Rob. He felt lightheaded and smiley and dirty. He just lay there, getting fucked-and it was embarrassing having a man do that to you, but it felt so good.

“R-Rob…” He whimpered, watching his erection flop about. “I think I-I’m gonna...ohhh…I’m gonna cum soon...” He squeezed the sheets. His first time was going to be over far too soon for his liking…there was this hot, burning sensation whizzing in his stomach, and all he could do was spread wider for Rob. 

The cyclops gripped his thighs harder. Gumball nearly blacked out as the older male ceremoniously burst inside his walls. It was like nothing he’d ever felt-somewhat weird and crazy. Through blurry eyes, he watched his cum explode out from inside his penis. They both watched it spill down his lean body. This was super weird. How could it not be? No one had ever seen him like this before. 

Gumball didn’t take a moment for air. 

He threw his hand around Rob’s neck, and smashed his lips into his. He kissed him madly, settling into his bony lap. 

Rob was saying his name between kisses. Gumball returned these kisses fiercely, wondering what on earth he was doing. This wasn’t right. It was still earth-shattering.

Gumball pulled away, “we haven’t talked in so long…and we just…”

Rob took his hands in his. They were so soft and so small in his-as opposed to Gumball’s eyes, which were big and piercing. “I-I know…and I’m actually...kind of scared.” Rob smiled faintly. “You’re...not terrible in bed, you know.” 

Gumball screwed up his nose. He might as well use humor to survive this one. “I hate you. And my fucking ass is sore….” he wrapped his arms around Rob, listening to his heart calm down. “It’s worth it, though.” 

Rob laughed. 

“We should make out sometime…do this again…” Gumball said, and he took a moment to observe Rob’s smile clearly. 

“I’d like that.” 

“Wait a minute!” Gumball’s eyes narrowed in on Rob’s flaccid condom-covered cock. “Why do you have condoms? Who else have you been having sex with?!” He immediately pouted. 

“I stole them from my dad.” Rob grinned broadly. “I figured that with our combined lack of impulse control, we’d probably need them.”

“Oh, no! From your DAD?!” Gumball winced. “Yuck! Who is HE having sex with?”

“Apparently, Larry Needlemeyer has gotten experimental. I’ve seen the text messages.”

“Oh, gross! Way to take my innocence, Rob!” With that, he playfully slugged the cyclops in the shoulder. 

Rob rolled his eye, rubbing his arm. “Right, THAT’S how I took your innocence…”

“Yeah!” Gumball chuckled. He thoughtfully pursed his lips. “So...how about snuggling?”

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo it’s not exactly a “masterpiece” per se, but I’m pretty proud of it-I had a shit ton of fun writing all the different scenes! I was in a lot of different moods when I wrote this, so some of it may seem a little...”off”, if you get what I’m saying? I was also trying to display that in Gumball as well-which is why I describe his confidence as scattered, and why he’s struggling to feel whole. 
> 
> As I told you in the summary, a lot of it was pretttttty self indulgent talk about my own mental health and whatnot. I definitely feel like this needs a second part, but I’m just not sure I’ll get round to doing that/how that would work. It would probably talk about their relationship after, and the various difficulties-between the relationship being homosexual, and Gumball’s diagnosis of cyclothymia (or ‘bipolar 3’ or ‘bipolar lite’ as some people call it) and anxiety. Anyway, I’d really appreciate any feedback-I totally miss some of my regular reviewers from this site, so it’d be great to hear from anyone!! If you guys really would be interested in a follow-up chapter, let me know! ;p
> 
> Note July 17 2020: it actually turns out I don’t have cyclothymia so...take what I said with a grain of salt.


End file.
